


House of Hearts

by FlorenceMinnie



Category: House of Hearts
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorenceMinnie/pseuds/FlorenceMinnie
Summary: Young Evelyn Oakheart is taken from her home to live in a mysterious institution known as the House of Hearts, where her future lies as uncertain as all the other girls around her. Guaranteed a decent education and the best possible care isn't enough to calm her shattered nerves, however, and the friends she makes along the way are just as clueless as she is for the time being.They always say "in time" here in the House, but they never say when in time.So how long will it take for them to learn the truth about their new home?
Kudos: 1





	House of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I want to start by thanking anyone that has taken the time to read this or even take a glance at it! It's a project I've wanted to work on for quite some time now, and I'm just now feeling comfortable about getting it out there.
> 
> With that being said, I hope you enjoy your stay at the House of Hearts!

Eyes fluttering open early in the morning, I lay still, watching a gentle blue light dance over the stripes of the green wallpaper, filtered by a billowing, sheer white curtain. The sound of the rain threatened to lull me back into a calm sleep, though I fought to keep my eyes open. It was these sorts of mornings that I loved the most – a cold summer day, rain pouring gently, and the sound of frogs coming in through the window. Heart a strange sort of calm, I pulled my blanket over my head and turned to face my beloved stuffed companion.

“What wonders might the day offer today, Sir Shambles?”

Naturally, he said nothing in response. An old friend of mine – Sir Shambles was a light blue bear covered in patches and stitches. A trooper indeed, he withstood the illness with me. The common thing it was, the illness was sudden and ruthless, as it was among all the others that suffered before me, of which there were many.

Upon the 12th year of life, every individual is stricken with a terrible strain of some unknown pathogen. This sickness lasts for the entirety of the following year, the end of which signifying one's right to live being proven at last. Easy as that may sound, many of us do not make it to the other side, and so the toll taken upon the bodies of those of us that survive the ordeal can be quite severe. In time, those afflicted will be good as new again, and all trace of the illness disappears entirely, never to be seen by said individual ever again. It typically takes only one month after the duration of the disease to be considered well enough again.

It has been six months and I am still yet to be fully recovered, a testament to my poor condition prior to the onset of the symptoms. Not a soul believed I was going to pass the test, and I, even stuck in my dreams as I was, did not believe I would either. The feeling of unease followed me closely in my adventures around the scape of my own mind, threatening to strike me down by intimidation alone. I do not remember how I managed to escape the darkness that stalked me through my dreams, I only remember waking to the sight of my parents (faces streaming with tears) calling my name again and again. The smiles upon their faces warmed my heart, shivering as it was. Being held in their arms brought my soul firmly back into my body, and I felt myself align, if ever so slightly. I was unable to hold myself up, and so I was gently placed back to rest upon my pillows.

It was when I was finally able to stand that I finally caught sight of my hair – it had turned a greenish-white color and grown significantly since I had last laid eyes upon my reflection. Taking it in my hand, I noted how soft it had become, and moved my head in all directions. My face and body had become quite thin, my skin became quite pale, and my eyes had turned green as well. Or perhaps they already were, for I cannot remember my natural colors anymore. One can only imagine them to be of a similar sort to my parents, but I cannot tell. My father has unusually dark red hair, and my mother possesses blonde locks. Perhaps, then, I was somewhere in between? My mother says it was always bright, and so I have gone by the assumption that it was once as beautiful as her own. As for eyes, my father sports blue, and my mother a beautiful hazel color. I believe my own may have been brownish before, but then it does not quite matter so much now that things have changed as they have.

Stirred from my long-winded thoughts, I could hear something outside. Hopping out of bed as my nightgown flowed down over my knees, I approached the window and gently pulled the curtain aside, the scene below coming into view. Beyond our vast garden hedges and down the long path of stepping stones that lead up to the main door, a coach sat idly by the side of the cobblestone road that traveled to and from our home. A man held the door open for a woman dressed in a deep purple gown, a large rose laced about her skirt, and a large hat with a striped feather reaching from the side. She removed one of her dark purple gloves and glanced at our humble abode (decorative and stylish as it was), as well as the great garden mazes that made up our front yard. Peach-colored roses lining her path, she began to make her way to the entrance, and I was startled by a knock on my door.

“Evie?” My mother said quietly.

“Yes, mother?”

“Won’t you accompany me downstairs, darling?”

I was quite concerned, I must admit. Could it be yet another doctor there to determine why I was yet so frail after all this time? There had been several at this point, and not one had been able to find any single reason as to why I was still in such a poor condition for not being ill anymore. It was quite confusing to all involved, really.

I nodded, moving to gather a dress and ready myself for the day. My mother gently closed the door and stood on the other side as I brushed my teeth and combed my hair delicately. Knocking on the door to imply that I was now ready, the two of us made our way down the stairs.

“You’ve nothing to fear, Mr. Oakheart,” a woman’s voice spoke from the kitchen.

“Yes, I know this, but…” The voice was… my father?

My mother held tightly to my hand as we walked into the room where the woman in the dark purple stood across from my father, who had a terribly frazzled appearance. Dark circles under his eyes and damp cheeks, I could recognize that he had once again been up the entirety of the night, and this time he had also been crying at that. My fear only grew as I set my eyes upon the woman – she was quite pretty, with her raven black hair and her somewhat purple eyes. Soft features that complimented her pale skin… I was speechless.

“Ah,” the woman smiled at my presence, “This must be young Evelyn. Pleased to meet you.”

“That would be correct, miss…”

“You may address me as Mistress Mooney.”

“Yes then, Mistress, it is quite pleasant to meet you as well.”

I was lying through my teeth. I never had taken too kindly to strangers, gentle and kind as she did seem. I was, however, taught that one must always be polite even to the cruelest of people, and so I made a conscious effort to always bear this in mind.

“You are quite lovely indeed, Evelyn.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

My mother looked to my father, who gave a troubled nod. I was led from the kitchen to the living room and told to sit upon our plush green and blue sofa. I did so and continued to do so for the next half hour before my mother and father entered the room. My father knelt before me, taking my hands into his as tears streamed down his poor face. My mother was now crying as well, and it made my heart heavy.

“We love you, Evie,” my father’s voice shook, “We will always love you. I promise, my darling. I am always thinking of you. You are in my heart at all times...”

“All will be well, my beautiful, beautiful child,” my mother held her hand to her face and wiped at her tears in vain.

“Mother? Father?” I could do nothing to hide my growing concern.

They said nothing as the woman I now knew as Mistress Mooney entered the room. She glanced at a small gold watch she produced from her skirt before returning it there.

“I am afraid, Mr. and Mrs. Oakheart, that we really must be off. We are to be terribly late should we waste another moment. I do apologize…”

“What is this?” My own voice shook now.

“You will be… staying elsewhere from today on, my darling,” my mother spoke so that my father would not have to.

The woman took my hand and gently tugged me along. Jerking my arm away suddenly, I ran to hug my parents for what I never thought would be the final time. Gazing deep into their eyes, I felt my own tears fall down my cheeks. I held them close and wept. The woman allowed this for a minute before placing her hand upon my shoulder and turning me towards her.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “We must be going, you must understand.”

I stood still for a moment.

“I shall explain on the way there, child. We are running quite low on time, and we must make haste.”

Upon breaking the boundary between the safety of my home and the danger of the outside world, I was greeted by the sight of three of my own bags being loaded into the coach. Unable to process the events taking place, I allowed myself the luxury of quietly sobbing as we got inside. The Mistress was quite sympathetic, offering me a handkerchief laced with the same rose that adorned her skirt.

“There, there,” she patted my shoulder softly, “All is well, child, do not fear.”

I said nothing, glancing at the changing scenery beyond the window. Gentlemen and ladies all passed by on the roads, entering and exiting the buildings we passed. The lanterns that took the places of their heads were mostly dim, and their bodies moved about sluggishly until we reached the main city I had known from a few visits during my childhood. Passing the park where I had been taken to play once or twice, I placed my hand to the window and began to zone out.

“My, Evelyn,” Mistress Mooney stole me from my trance, “Have you been listening?”

“I do apologize, Mistress, for I have been quite distracted. I beg your pardon. If I may trouble you, would you mind starting over?”

“It is quite alright, dear girl. I remember when I was first taken away as well. It is quite troubling - settling in somewhere new - but it can be done.”

Her words comforted me slightly, though this was only by the fact that she knew how I now felt.

“Fear not, Evelyn, you are safe. You will be taking up residence at the finest of establishments of its kind, the House of Hearts.”

“The House of Hearts?”

“Indeed. You will be given the finest education you could ask for, and you will be provided with all that you may possibly need to succeed in this life, this much I can promise you.”

“Your promise means much to me, madam, it truly does,” I took offense to my own yawning in the moment, “But might you have any other means of showing me what potential these words hold?”

“All will be revealed in due time, my girl,” she spoke softly in response, “All in due time.”

My confusion at her words only grew the more she spoke, though she opted to remain silent a good portion of the time I was to speak with her. I suppose one couldn’t entirely blame myself for that outcome, yet I felt responsible nonetheless. I was to see what the future brought me, not to hear of it in any sense of the word. I would become what this new wind took me to be, nothing more and nothing less. The words settled in my chest as I took them in individually. I knew I would never quite feel so whole as I did once in my long sleep, and yet I wanted nothing more than to try. One day I would know at least one thing about myself – and that would be whether I was truly brave or not. What that truly meant for me, I could not say, and yet I was sure I would soon know the truth.

In any case, I did my best to avoid the thought of the truth as it came, as I knew I would soon have no choice but to master my own individual fear – the fear of being left to my own devices. That made no sense, I knew, I truly did. Maybe one day I will know what it means to be truly brave, but that night I did not know. I regret to say that I felt I would never know at the time.

As we arrived at our destination I was met with an awesome sight: a hulking structure of bright, pastel pinks and reds exquisitely decorated in heart patterns. It was quite a large building – a tower lit up at the bottom by large spotlights that illuminated the length of the structure. Quite pretty, I had to admit, had I not been so absolutely terrified, I may have even been quite dazzled, to say the least. In the end, though, I was met with apprehension the likes of which threatened to still my heart in that very moment. Still, I could not help but stare in wonder, my Mistress taking notice.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

“Quite so,” my voice shook, “Quite beautiful indeed.”

She said nothing more as we made our approach, simply nodded to me and removed the gloves she wore, then cleared her throat.

Upon our official arrival, I was escorted through grand doors decorated in bright purple and gold and into an even grander foyer. There stood before me a large fountain, the main feature of which being the figure of a woman pouring a pot of water into the glittering pool below, with large staircases to either side. The room was decorated in much the same pastel shade as the outside of the building, reminding me of the surface of my favorite strawberry flavored sweets. The wallpaper was more like a sticker than a covering, and it flowed up the wall in swirling decals like an ivy chain, and there were chocolate panels lining the bottom of the walls. I must say that this sight did calm me ever so slightly. My Mistress took pride in my reaction to the scene and held her head up high.

I heard something latch behind me but was given no time to react.

“This way, young Evelyn,” she motioned to the set of stairs to the left, and I was led up and through a long corridor along the left side once more, then through a door at the end. She led me through winding halls, and before I knew it, I was quite lost indeed. I found myself holding my breath as we approached a great chocolate-colored set of doors at the end of the hall. I was advised to take a seat upon a bench on either side of the door and wait in the hall until further instruction.

I passed about half an hour, perhaps, simply sitting perfectly still in my seat of choice, listening for some kind of clue as to what exactly was even going on. I heard the distant sound of voices echoing behind the door but could make no words out of the chattering. I held my hands together firmly, leaving little marks where I had incidentally pushed too hard with my fingernails. The marks stood out upon my pale skin, and suddenly I began to feel odd. I began to think about the possible reasons I had been taken here as well as when I might return home. Surely I wouldn’t be kept here forever, right?

And then the door opened and Mistress Mooney ushered me inside, directing me once more to take a seat, this time in front of a large desk much the same shade of brown as the door. Glancing around the room, I was quite taken in by the cute little decorations scattered about. A porcelain cat upon a stack of shelves to the left, accompanied by little teacups and such things. To my right there stood a large bookcase littered with much the same sort of objects, yet what stood out to me was a large and pale red book that sat upon the top shelf. On top of the desk itself, there was a beautiful laced fabric on the side opposite to me, with many books and files scattered about it. A bit of a mess indeed, yet it was still quite pleasing to the eye.

“Ah,” a voice across from me said, “You must be young Evelyn Oakheart.”

“Indeed, miss.”

“You may address me as Madam Corterton,” the woman turned in her chair and I at once was taken in by her beauty – a somewhat older woman, her hair had begun to turn white in places mixed in with vivid brown color. Her skin, though somewhat pale, held together quite tightly around her sharp features. Her nose pointed down and her lips were fuller than one would expect, and she had her hair pulled tightly into a bun behind her.

“Though just ‘Madam’ would suffice.”

“Yes, Madam.”

“Now then,” Madam Corterton took up a scrap of paper from her desk, “Mistress Mooney here tells me that you’re of the quiet sort. Do you believe you work best in the company of others, or all by your lonesome?”

“I’m afraid I’ve not had the opportunity to work with others, Madam.”

“I see,” she glanced back down at her paperwork, “Ah, you’ve never been enrolled in an institution before, have you?”

“No, Madam.”

“That will work quite in our favor, yes it will. Tell me, young Evelyn – are you afraid?”

I thought about this question for a moment and could find no answer.

“I see,” she said once again, “Well, I assure you, you’ve nothing to be fearful of here. You will be well taken care of, yes, and you will receive a fine education indeed.”

“What am I to be educated on, Madam?”

“Well… Everything you must know to make a life here at our humble House. You must understand, of course,” she placed her papers down on the desk, “You will establish a rather permanent residence here.”

My heart stood still and my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m afraid,” I said, “That I should wish to see my parents again.”

“And I am sorry, my girl, but you will find that that is quite impossible.”

“Impossible?”

“Indeed,” she reached for my hand, “We will require your full attention here at the House of Hearts, and our kindness will be repaid by your hard work in the future.”

“What sort of work am I to be doing, then?”

“For now, you need not concern yourself with anything besides your education.”

Unsatisfied with this answer, I turned my head down and allowed my hair to fall over my face.

“That leads us into the next portion of your enrollment here,” she pulled her hand away and brought it to her chin, “Your new name.”

I did not move, and this seemed to inspire Madam Corterton as she watched my heavy locks cover my face.

“Your name,” she said, “Shall be Willow from here on out.”

“Why should I be given a new name, Madam? I quite like my current one.”

“You are starting a new life here, young one, and this means leaving your old one behind.”

I felt an unpleasant pressure swell up in my chest and felt the need to cry, though I suppressed it. I was quite glad not either of them took notice.

“It is settled, then,” she stood and directed me to do the same before holding out her hand expectantly, “It is quite an honor to meet you, young Willow.”

“As well as you, Madam,” I knew not what to do, and so I stuck my hand out to her as well. She took my palm and shook it lightly before letting go once more. She looked to Mistress Mooney and nodded.

“Well,” she smiled down at me, “The girl must be positively dying to meet her new roommate, no?”

“My... roommate?”

“Indeed, my dear girl! You shall live alongside your fellow classmates, shall you not?”

I said nothing and turned away from the Madam to face the Mistress.

“Mistress Mooney,” she spoke, “Would you quite mind taking young Willow here to meet the girl she will be staying with?”

“Of course, Madam,” and thus I was directed out of the door again.

“Mind not the Madam,” my Mistress spoke, “She is a gentle soul indeed.”

I could not disagree, and so I said nothing.

I was led back into the foyer and down the hall that led down the center of the fountain this time, then I was taken up several flights of stairs and into a hall full of doors. So many, in fact, that it made me quite nervous. Each door had upon it a number, and I supposed that was how one was to find her way around the establishment, though I was sure that might be more confusing. The hallways in this area were decorated with dark brown paneling and a deep red wallpaper. Taking me down a good portion of the hallway, I was led to room 103 on what felt to be (at the very least) the 40th floor.

“This,” Mistress Mooney spoke, “Is where you shall be staying from here on, so do try to make it your own, hm?”

Opening the door, she ushered me inside once more.

I was met with the sight of a girl about my age with short black hair cut in spikes and tanned skin, her brown eyes sparkled in the light and I was certain I must get along with this girl as if my life depended on it.

“This here is Fox,” Mistress Mooney said, “She will be your roommate throughout your stay here at the House, and so I expect the two of you will get along swimmingly.”

Fox said nothing at first, then made her way to stand before me. She studied my face for a moment before putting her hand out much the same way the Madam had.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said in a somewhat rough voice, “I’m Fox, as the Mistress says.”

“Fox, this is Willow.”

“Willow, huh? I can see it.”

With my hair over my face, I suddenly felt self-conscious and brushed it back over my ear on one side.

“Fox,” the Mistress began to scold her.

“I was only kiddin’ around, Mistress! Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of this one.”

“As you had better.”

“And as I shall, Mistress.”

Mistress Mooney stared down at the girl for a moment before clearing her throat, “Dinner shall be in about an hour, so the two of you will have plenty of time for pleasantries in the meantime. Make good use of it, the both of you.”

We both nodded and then were left alone in the room as the door latched behind the Mistress.

“Took her long enough,” Fox sighed, “A real tight one, she is. You steal cake from the cafeteria one time and that’s that! Suddenly you can’t be trusted. Well, I say whatever to that nonsense.”

I was quite confused by her speech, and so I found myself tilting my head.

“Don’t worry, Willow,” she smiled at me, “I don’t bite, promise.”

She motioned for me to come to the window that sat before two desks in the center of the room, overlooking a great hedge maze full of roses and other such beauties. I swore I saw something moving about between the hedges… and then there it was again!

“What is that?” I asked.

“That,” she said, “Would be… Well, I’m not quite sure exactly. I’ve been told we’ll learn in time. They always tell us ‘in time’, but never when in time. I like to watch the people down there chase each other around as they do. An odd sight, really. One I’m very much excited to learn about in the future.”

Her words left me just as confused as I had been before, and so I turned my attention to the skyline. We were quite high up, it seemed, and it found me a little on the dizzy side. The sky itself, however, was quite dazzling – purples, reds, and golds all faded together among the clouds as the sun set on the city beyond the maze. It was breathtaking, and I found myself staring at the sight altogether much too long.

“Are you all right?” Fox asked after what seemed to be ten minutes.

“Oh,” I shook my head to gather myself from my trance, “Yes, of course.”

“You’re an odd one,” she laughed, “I like that.”

We sat in silence for a moment too long before she spoke once more, “What’s your name?”

“Willow, miss…”

“Not that. Your real name.”

“Oh, um... Evelyn. Evelyn Oakheart.”

“My name is Shaniah Fauxley.”

“Quite pleasant to meet you, Shaniah.”

“As well as you, Evelyn.”

As we made a short, idle conversation about our origins and such, a bell sounded and I heard the door click once more.

“That would be dinner!” Fox jumped up and rubbed her hands together, “Come, come, let’s eat! I shall introduce you to some of my friends. They’re bound to like you, don’t worry!”

Fox led me down the hall once more and down the stairs, this time taking a door opposite the last one I had come through. The layout confused me ever the more, and I wondered how Fauxley might navigate such a place. Beyond the door was yet another hall, this one having fewer doors than the others, as well as a large set of blue doors at the end of the hall. Fox led me through these doors and into a great dining hall full of several long tables and benches. All were decorated in the pastel pink that seemed to go about the establishment, and the floor sparkled brightly.

“Come now,” Fox took hold of my hand, “Don’t be afraid.”

She led me to one of many lines that led into little alcoves scattered about the outer walls of the room. Holding our place for several minutes, she told me to take up a pink tray and hold it out when I saw something I might like. I took with me a small pile of thin noodles, a few chunks of what appeared to be beef, and a small cake the size of my palm, then was led to a table in the back right corner of the room, where I was directed to sit in the corner of the rightmost bench.

“Eat as much as you like,” she told me with a smile on her face.

“Thank you, Fox…”

“No need for that,” she took up a fork in her hand and set to eating what looked to be mashed potatoes, then turned her attention to three other girls as they sat beside and in front of the two of us.

“Who might this be?” asked a girl with dark red curls.

“I’d hoped you might ask! This here, dear girls,” she patted on my back, “Is Willow! Just brought in today, in fact. A little skittish, but she’s sweet so far.”

“Hello, Willow,” a girl with a small voice, short, dark blonde hair, and a nose littered with freckles said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Willow, this is Audrey,” she pointed to the girl with the red curls, “This is Angelica,” she pointed to the freckled girl, “And this is Brandi,” she pointed to the final girl, who had bright blonde hair and a mole marked right below her left eye. I studied each of them individually for a moment:

Audrey had wild hair that stuck out in bits of fluff here and there with beautiful green eyes that shone like my mother’s emerald jewels. Her skin was nearly as pale as mine and she had a light frosting of freckles as well, though they were not so prominent as Angelica’s.

Angelica’s hair framed her face on either side with a somewhat wavy bob and bangs that swept to the right side of her face. She had about her small, tanned, and rounded features, including a nose like a button, and dark brown eyes. Her freckles served to give her an even sweeter appearance – like being lightly dusted with cinnamon.

Lastly, Brandi wore her entirely straight hair down to her shoulders with bangs that traveled in a straight line across her forehead. Her eyes were dark around the edges, which only seemed to make her hazel irises stand out brightly. She was quite a beauty, it was impossible not to notice, and this brought a slight blush to my cheeks.

“It is nice to meet you all,” I managed after my analysis of the girls before me.

“She talks like a mouse,” Brandi said in a somewhat deep tone, “Adorable indeed.”

“Don’t bully the poor girl, Brandi,” Audrey piped up, her voice like a song.

“I meant nothing of the sort,” Brandi looked offended, “Truly, I mean it, she’s quite pretty.”

It felt good to hear that from someone with such a fair face, and so I said, “Thank you…”

“Your hair…” This time it was Angelica that spoke, “It’s quite unique, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so…”

“She’s been kept quite frail from that infernal illness, I’m afraid. Poor thing, she could’ve nearly died in her state. Hasn’t quite fully recovered, so I ask for your respect and patience.”

“I do apologize,” Angelica bowed her head and picked at the meat on her tray.

“I took no offense,” I raised a hand and smiled politely, “Really, it’s quite alright... Angelica, was it?”

“You’re catching on quickly, Willow! I like her already.”

“It don’t take much to impress you, Angelica,” Brandi said snidely.

“Hey now,” Fox intervened, “Should a lady of your esteem be talking like that?”

After a moment of silence, each of the girls burst into laughter and Fox patted my back once more, “Just a joke is all it is! Not one of us cares much for being the ladies we’re expected to be, now do we?”

The girls gave a resounding, “No!”

I could say nothing in the moment, for I was raised to be… well, exactly that, I suppose. Giving thought to the idea of speaking in another manner only confused me. Perhaps, I thought, this was how girls who had seen the outside world saw things.

“Cheer up, Willow,” Audrey gave in her sweet voice, “Never heard the common tongue?”

“Common tongue?”

“I’ve heard,” she began, “That people all over the world don’t pay much mind to proper etiquette. My mother once referred to them as ‘heathens’, but I thought it much more fun to hear than the dreary way we’re taught to speak in institutions.”

“Institutions?” I felt inept.

“You know,” Fox said, “A place of learning? Didn’t your parents ever enroll you in one before you came here?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve not seen much of the outside world, you see, and so I don’t really know much of it.”

“That, my girl,” she gave another pat to my back, “Is going to change tremendously. See,” she motioned around the room, “Most of us come from places of… well, somewhat questionable origin when you put thought into it. Brandi here came from a poor family in the darker parts of town. Couldn’t afford to take proper care of her, and so they were offered a deal by the House.”

“What sort of deal?”

“The House takes the girls which cannot be cared for and offers the parents good coin in exchange.”

My heart was still. Cannot be cared for?

“But, I…” I choked on my words. The girls took notice of my discomfort and left it at that.

“In any case, the lines about the maze today have been quite crowded, hm? I always wonder what they’re all doing down there…”

“Probably…” Brandi put a hand to her chin, “Actually, I’ve no idea.”

“The older girls seem to know, don’t they?” Angelica had an innocent look on her face.

“I’ve no way of talking with them, now do I?”

“Calm down, then… I’m sure they’ll tell us next year.”

“It’s always ‘next year’, now isn’t it?” Fox gave a puff of air upwards.

“There’s always the chance…”

“I’ve my doubts. Besides,” she pointed to Angelica’s tray with her cutlery, “Are you going to eat that?”

I passed the rest of my dinner time quietly listening to the girls as they chatted as well as picking around at the food upon my tray, quite lost in my own thoughts, mulling over what information I had just learned. Suddenly I was overcome with the urge to run away. I wanted to be at home.

About an hour after we’d been fed, another bell tolled and Fox told me it was time to retire to our room once more, this time for the rest of the night. On the way, she held onto my hand and led me through the confusing halls once again. I thought of my mother along the way. I thought of my father. I thought of the words of the girls – “cannot be cared for” and “questionable origin”…

Fox turned to me when I gave a sniffle. Her face grew with concern as I gave another. And another. She glanced around before touching my shoulder and whispering, “Come on.” She then took my hand and led me down to the end of the hall and stopped before our room, gently guiding me inside before taking my arms in her hands.

“I want to go home,” I blurted, “When do I get to go home?”

“I’m afraid you don’t… This is our home now.”

I felt my eyes burn with tears that threatened to stain my face. She pulled me in closer and wrapped her arms about my shoulders, “It’s okay,” she said quietly, “You can cry. Lord knows I did when I first got here.”

And so, I did. I wept into her shoulder for what felt like forever, failing to find words for what I was feeling, though if I had to say now, I would use the words dejected and hopeless. I’d never been away for so long. I’d never thought it possible that I ever would be, to be honest. Fox simply held me and rubbed about on my back, giving a gentle, “There, there,” every once in a while. Then she began to hum a gentle song and run her fingers through my hair. After about half an hour of this, I felt sufficiently calm enough to pull myself away and try to pull myself together.

“All better?” Fox asked.

I gave a nod, yet understood that we both knew it never would be again. She pulled me to my feet and took me to the large wardrobe on my side of the room – to the left upon entry.

“Here,” she opened the doors and plucked a white nightgown from it, “We might keep talking, I have enjoyed your company, but we must make as though we’ve gone to bed.”

She went over to her own wardrobe and pulled from it the same nightgown as the one I now held, and then we changed. She directed me to toss what I had been wearing into a little basket beside the wardrobe, and I knew at once that I would never again see my favorite dress in favor of the ones I had now inside my wardrobe. Looking through it, I saw what I recognized as the uniform of the establishment – a pastel blue gown that came down to about mid-calf, white ruffles upon the chest, and a blue ribbon tied about the collar. It sported a band of elastic about the chest and fell freely about the legs, making it excellent to twirl in.

Moving to the window, I put my palm to the pane of glass and gazed below as Fox settled into her bed, simply watching the maze – it was lit up in glittering lights and I could see the figures of people running about as I had just a little earlier, only this time there were more of them. When they were lit up, I could see they all had on quite colorful and decorative costumes, though I could make out no individual details, as we were too high up.

“Come now, Willow,” she nodded to my own bed, “We ought to look asleep at least.”

Crawling beneath my covers, I was comforted by the warmth they provided. A light was turned off and a dim glow was given off by crystals on the walls on either side of the wardrobes. It was quite pretty.

“You’ll do just fine here, Willow.”

I thought for a moment, then said, “You may call me Evelyn whenever possible…”

“Right then, Evelyn,” she put thought into it for a moment, “No, Evie. I’ll take to calling you Evie if you’ll have it.”

“That’s what my parents called me...”

“Is it no good, then?”

“No, no,” I knew she could not see me shake my head, “It’s quite alright, actually. I would love to hear my own name again.”

“Perfect! Then you might call me Shaniah or Fauxley however you may so please.”

“We must stick to our new names outside of this room, shouldn’t we?”

“Afraid so, Evie. Afraid so. But don’t fret, it’s much easier than it sounds. Don’t, however, let the Mistresses hear you call me by my name. They get incredibly angry if you do, and you’re liable to receive some punishment or another for it. I’ve done it before, to Brandi, and I was made to clean out Mistress Gavelle’s classroom.”

“Fauxley,” I said quietly, “What is a classroom like?”

“Well,” she hesitated, “It’s quite lively indeed. Chatter all about, but we all go silent when the Mistresses start their lesson. We get up about 8 a.m., we learn, we work, and then we go to the next one until the clock strikes 5 p.m. It’s easy once you get the hang of it. Hardest part is finding the room you’re meant to be in next.”

“Will you be there to help me find my way?”

“Of course! We’re partners now, you and me. Means we’ll be stuck with each other the whole of our years now. Wherever I go, you are supposed to follow.”

“I shall do so diligently.”

“You’re so funny,” Fauxley laughed, “I look forward to having you beside me. My last partner… She was quite snide and painful to talk to. Don’t know what happened to her, actually. One day I came back and she was just… gone.”

I gulped down fear and said, “Gone?”

“Gone. It happens sometimes. Not often, but it happens. Don’t worry, it won’t happen to you.”

“I should hope not.”

“Now then,” she gave a giggle, “Why don’t you tell me a little about your life before? I’m quite interested in hearing your tale. Never been outside your own home, have you? I should like to hear what that’s like!”

And so the two of us talked well into the night of what it was like to live our lives before we arrived here before we fell into a deep slumber.

Fauxley snores in her sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again for taking the time to read this! I'll be giving it updates at somewhat irregular intervals as I follow along with the story myself.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed your stay and I hope that you'll continue to read as I release more and more of it!


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